The World, My Oyster
by Cambrian Beckett
Summary: This is a Self-Insert fic. The Premise: Reborn as a Celestial Dragon in One Piece. Jump off point might be a little strange, but I won't lie, I'm honestly making this up as I go along. WARNING: Dark, Mature Themes abound.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I don't even know what I'm doing. Honestly, I don't know nearly enough about One Piece, so I have no idea where this is going to go. It might not go anywhere at all. Feel free to give ideas? For instance, this is the first chapter, but not necessarily the earliest point of the story I'm going to explore. Every chapter will probably be marked with a date of "This Many Years Before Canon" and we might go far enough back to have some fun with characters like Belle-mere...**

 **Premise: Reborn as a Celestial Dragon in One Piece. As usual, I have no self-control. Enjoy, maybe?**

 **-x-X-x-**

 **Five Years Before Canon**

Shalulia can't help but smile as she meanders her way through the biggest party that the Holy Land Mariejois has ever seen. The Celestial Dragon pauses and reaches out to take a delicious treat from one of the trays being carried about by sharply dressed slaves. She consumes the treat and lets out a happy sigh, content with the taste. There had been murmurings among the World Nobles for a while now, that one of their own was acting… strangely.

But if anything were to convince her peers that Saint Rolf was as much one of them as anyone else, Shalulia was sure that this was it. The beautiful woman's smile only widens as she catches sight of the noble in question through the crowd. They'd grown up together, the two of them, and they were the next generation of this world's gods. Was it any wonder that she be interested in him? Was it any wonder that she would be perhaps, a bit enamored with him?

Some called him the most handsome noble in Mariejois, though of course, that wasn't exactly a high bar to pass. Moving through the crowd, Shalulia pushes aside slaves in her way quite roughly, barely paying them any mind as she waves a hand in the air.

"Rolf! Rolf, over here!"

The male Celestial Dragon turns and his lips curl into a smile as his eyes fall upon her. He waits patiently for her to approach, and despite herself, Shalulia feels ever so slightly nervous as she finally finds herself in front of him. Many of their peers called Rolf the most mysterious of the World Nobles, mostly because, while he seemed somewhat like them, he did things differently more often than not.

Not to mention, he had the best slave collection in Mariejois. It even rivaled her father's pirate captain collection if Shalulia was being honest with herself, which she rarely was. Rolf seemed to have a keen eye for the best slaves, and he constantly sent out dispatches to bring him back new specimens. It almost wasn't fair, just how good he was at getting what he wanted.

"Hello Rolf… lovely party."

She was shy. It was silly, but it was the truth. Around anyone else, even her own family, Shalulia would have been her normal proud, obstinate, boastful self. Around anyone not a World Noble, she would have been even worse. But with Rolf… well, she'd given her first kiss to the other Celestial Dragon. He meant a lot to her.

Smirking slightly, Rolf looks about and nods, before handing her the second wine glass he'd been holding in his hand. Shalulia blushes deeply as she reaches out and takes it, eyes widening with delight.

"For me?"

He'd been holding two glasses of wine when she approached, and as he sips from one, Rolf nods. She quickly and greedily drinks from the cup, cherishing and savoring the gift that he's given her. Though, there is a small after-taste to it that she can't quite place.

"I'm glad you're enjoying the party Shalulia. I thought it was important to throw it, given how things are going to change soon for all of us."

That brings the female noble up short. Shalulia furrows her brow slightly, a confused smile on her done-up face as she looks at her childhood friend, interest piqued.

"Oh? Change? Things don't change very often around here Rolf. What could you possibly mean?"

Rolf chuckles darkly, and there's something surprisingly dangerous in her eyes. Not that Shalulia is worried about it. Even if she's nervous around the other World Noble, she's quite confident in her own invincibility. After all, she's one of this world's gods. As Rolf hooks one of her arms and begins to lead her through the part, Shalulia allows herself to be led, happily even, sipping from the wine glass he'd given her all the while.

"Well, you're right in that the Holy Land hasn't changed much in quite a long time. The families of World Nobles, those eighteen that remain anyways, they do as they please, make children, grow old and die, and leave their offspring to do it all over again. I suppose we're the latest examples of that."

Shalulia nods. Yes, while they were invincible, they were unfortunately NOT immortal. Old age took them all, eventually. As it had with Rolf's family. He was the sole remaining member of his particular bloodline, and he had yet to make any children. Perhaps… Shalulia licks her lips as she smiles at him. The woman turns slightly, to show off her body.

"Speaking of offspring… you will need a wife soon, Rolf."

He looks at her with a mildly amused expression on his face, even as they reach the outskirts of the massive party. Shalulia momentarily wonders if every single World Noble in the Holy Land is in attendance. It certainly seems like they are, as everyone feasts and drinks and makes merry.

"Is that a proposition, Shalulia?"

Pressing her lips together, her supreme, innate confidence as a World Noble clashes with her crush on her longtime friend. Her pride eventually wins out of course, and she sticks out her chin.

"So what if it is?"

Rolf grins sadistically, but as before, this only serves to turn Shalulia on. She can't fathom his sadism being directed towards her, and in fact his dark side only arouses her, as she imagines all the horrible things they could do to their slaves together. Especially his slaves, his beautiful, gorgeous slaves…

"Well, I'm not sure I can take you as a wife, old friend. After all, you will soon be taking a bit of a tumble from grace, and I don't see you recovering from it any time soon."

Her fantasies of blood and the pain and exquisite suffering of others causes Shalulia to take a while to process his words. When she finally does, she's merely more confused than before. Looking at Rolf, she furrows her brow yet again, staring at him from behind her orange-tinted shades.

"Tumble from grace… I truly don't understand you sometimes Rolf…"

Even as she parrots his words back to him in an inquisitive tone, the first sounds of alarm fill the air. Rolf's evil grin grows wider, but Shalulia is already looking away from him. At first, the Celestial Dragon does not comprehend what she's seeing. It doesn't really make sense, the view before her. All across the massive promenade and plaza, all across the largest party the Holy Land has seen in years, people are choking, gasping for air, falling over and not getting back up.

And when she says people, she means PEOPLE, other World Nobles like herself, the ones who matter. In fact, the slaves serving food and the guards guarding the event are all standing there with shocked expressions on their faces, even as the descendants of the founding families keel over dead all around them. Well, some of the slaves and the guards are confused. Not Rolf's. Rolf's slaves and Rolf's guards are in fact moving with eerie precision through those of other now dead World Nobles, dealing with any miscreants and malcontents, handling any issues that arise.

Shalulia's mouth opens and closes in abject confusion, until she finally turns back to her childhood friend.

"Rolf, what's happening? We have to… we should do something. Our friends, our fellow nobles, they seem to be experiencing difficulties breathing."

The male noble looks at her with a lifted brow.

"Indeed, they are. What would you have me do Shalulia, besides what I've already done?"

His hands spread out, as if to claim credit for what's happening all around them. Shalulia doesn't understand. She quite literally can't comprehend what he's implying. Though it pains her to say so, eventually she admits it to her childhood friend, probably the only one she'd ever say the words to.

"I don't… I don't understand."

Grinning as wickedly as ever before, Rolf shrugs his shoulders.

"I suppose you don't. I'll spell it out for you then. I killed them Shalulia. I killed them all. Every single World Noble besides you and I is now dead. I poisoned the food, the drink. The only reason you aren't dead as well is because of the antidote in the wine I offered you. If you hadn't taken the glass, you'd be keeled over, asphyxiated, just like the rest. Just like your idiot father and brother."

Shalulia gapes. He's… he's speaking nonsense.

"That doesn't… that can't be. World Nobles can't just… can't just be killed, especially not by one of our own kind. You wouldn't Rolf. You wouldn't kill my father and brother, all of our peers. It's impossible."

Her childhood friend stares at her for a long moment, curiosity shining in his eyes as he smiles in something approaching pity, instead of sadism.

"You truly believe that, don't you? You truly can't comprehend what I've done. That is so very… very sad. You'll learn though, soon enough. Take her."

A pair of arms latch onto her on either side and Shalulia's eyes widen in outrage as two guards wearing Rolf's colors grab hold of her. Plebians, COMMONERS are TOUCHING HER!

"Unhand me this instant! What are you imbeciles doing, do you know who I am?!"

Even now, Shalulia cannot comprehend her position. Even now, the female World Noble doesn't understand what's happening. A sudden smack to her forehead from Rolf, and she slumps forward unconscious, her shrill voice thankfully silenced. Rolf lets out a happy sigh and smiles pleasantly as he looks around the massive, much quieter party, at all the death he's just caused. The World Government will be here soon.

But that's okay, because the World Government answers to the Celestial Dragons, to the World Nobles that helped form it. Of which, he is the only one left alive. And because a World Noble is above reproach, the marines will not arrest him for killing every last one of his peers. In the end… the World Government answers to HIM now.

A deep, dark chuckle fills the air, exiting Rolf's throat as his thoroughly loyal guards and servants keep the party under wraps. Those slaves that once belonged to now dead world nobles would not see freedom this day. No, they now belonged to him, as did everything else. As did the WORLD itself. Rolf's chuckle eventually peters off into a giggle, even as the first of the officials from the World Government makes it into the party, only to go slack-jawed at the sight before him.

Seeing them, Rolf begins to make his way towards the entrance of the venue. It's time to lay down the law. HIS law.

-x-X-x-

Shalulia wakes up slowly, confused and weak. She brings a hand to her aching head, but when she tries to cradle her skull, a thick, slave collar stops her from craning her neck. Both hands immediately go to said collar, and the female World Noble's eyes go wide as she realizes she's wearing the explosive accessory meant for scum and dirty around her neck.

This… this isn't right! She's a Celestial Dragon, a GOD. As Shalulia panics, she realizes more indignities and injustices. First, she's also been stripped of her fine clothing, and put in nothing more than an itchy burlap sack one piece, with arm holes and a neck hole and nothing else. Her otherwise naked form is constantly beset by a scratching sensation from the burlap each time she tries to move.

On top of that, her hair has been cut, her stylish upwards curl removed completely and her head not quite bald, but definitely shaved, much like what might be done to a newly acquired slave. And then there's her accommodations. She does not wake up in her bed as she should, but on a small wood bench in a tiny dirty cell. There is a wood door blocking her way, locked and keeping her inside the small room.

It's unconscionable, the way she's being treated. Snarling, Shalulia moves to the small window in the wood door and begins to scream her righteous fury to anyone in earshot.

"LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT RIGHT THIS INSTANT! TAKE THIS DAMN COLLAR OFF ME AND GIVE ME BACK MY CLOTHES! I DEMAND WHOEVER CUT MY HAIR TO BE BROUGHT BEFORE ME SO I MAY EXECUTE THEM PERS-!"

Shalulia stops as she realizes her pistol, the choice weapon of most every World Noble, has also been removed from her. A growl and she amends her statement.

"BRING ME MY PISTOL TOO, SO I CAN EXECUTE THEM PERSONALLY!"

… There's no response.

"HEY! I AM TALKING! I DEMAND TO BE RELEASED IMMEDIATELY! I AM A WORLD NOBLE YOU IMBECILES! I AM A GOD AMONG MORTALS! I AM A CELESTIAL DRAGON! FREE ME, FREE ME NOW!"

Still no answer, not even the sound of movement. Is there anyone in earshot? There has to be, the thought that there might not be a slave to hear her words and come running to attend to her doesn't even pass through Shalulia's mind. There's ALWAYS a slave ready to attend to her, or else they risk severe punishment. That has been the way of things all of her life.

As such, Shalulia continues to scream through the small barred window before her, shouting her rage to the high heavens for quite some time. It's only when her voice begins to die and she starts to grow weak that she's forced to stop by her own body's physical needs. Panting, Shalulia slumps to the ground, before crawling over and up back onto the wood bench. The floor of the tiny room is filthy, and the bench isn't much better but at least it's not the floor.

She lays there, catching her breath and resting her self-ruined throat as she stares at the dirt ceiling over her head.

An hour later, a key turns in the door of her cell and Shalulia's eyes go wide as she immediately stands up.

"Finally, I-… Rolf?!"

The Celestial Dragon steps into the tiny cell with a smile on his face as he nods his head in greetings.

"The proper form of address should be 'Master', but in deference to your circumstances, I will let that pass… for now."

Blinking dumbly, Shalulia can't help but laugh, her tone disbelieving as if she thinks Rolf is messing with her.

"That… is this all just a practical joke Rolf? You're messing with me, aren't you! Well, it's a little funny, but it's over now! So you can take off this collar and give me back my clothes. And if it was one of your slaves who cut my hair, I'll only mostly kill them, I promise. I know how attached you get."

Her childhood friend just looks at her for a long moment before pressing his lips together.

"Shalulia… I'm growing tired of your obstinance. The stupidity of you and the rest of the World Nobles was helpful, in a way, but ultimately it's no longer necessary. So let's see if we can't work this out, right here and right now. Tell me, what makes you a World Noble?"

Shalulia frowns at that.

"My blood of course, just as yours does. We are Celestial Dragons by divine right. We are the creators of this world, and thus it's gods. Why are you shaking your head?!"

And indeed, Rolf is shaking his head. He stops after a moment and smiles grimly.

"Consider the nineteenth family for a brief moment Shalulia. Consider Donquixote Homing."

Shalulia's lips curl into a sneer at that.

"That traitor… what a good for nothing piece of filth. Was he even really a World Noble, in the end?"

Rolf nods his head.

"He WAS… but consider, when did he STOP being one?"

She furrows her brow in confusion and concentration, thinking hard about it for a long moment.

"He… he never was, obviously. Or he wouldn't have left."

Rolf groans and runs a hand down his face. Before he asks another question, he pulls out something that Shalulia recognizes immediately.

"You… what are you doing with my identification chip Rolf?"

He smiles at her as he holds it between two fingers.

"When Homing gave up his chip to the government official that escorted his family out of the Holy Land, that's when he stopped being a World Noble. Without this chip, we're nothing. It is the proof of our status after all, isn't it? If you didn't have this chip, and you tried to order around the World Government looking like you are now, why, they'd laugh in your face, don't you think?"

Shalulia's nostrils flare in anger.

"Of course they wouldn't, it's not like a dumb chip is all that makes me a World Noble! Now, give it he… re."

The woman's eyes widen and her jaw drops, the last word trailing out from between her lips as Rolf crushes her identification chip in his hand, dropping the small, useless fragments left behind to the floor of her cell.

"There. Now you're not a World Noble anymore. Nice to have such clarity, isn't it?"

Shalulia's mouth opens and closes like a goldfish as she stares at the remnants of her identification chip, of the proof of her status. And in that moment, clarity does indeed pierce through the ever-present veil of pride and superiority that she has always had. She realizes just what she looks like. She realizes that without her identification chip, without her noble clothing, she can't prove she's a World Noble.

Even more, with an explosive collar around her neck, her head shaved, and a burlap cloth sack covering her body, she can't even truly prove she isn't a slave.

"R-Rolf… Rolf, what have you done?"

He'd really done it, hadn't he? It'd taken him outright destroying her chip in front of her face, but suddenly, Shalulia realized that her childhood friend had POISONED her family and every other World Noble in the Holy Land. It was just him and her left now… but no, it was just him if she wasn't even a World Noble anymore, wasn't it?

Shalulia's mind fractures as Rolf chuckles darkly, and suddenly she IS afraid of his sadistic grin.

"As I said before, the proper form of address is Master. I'll leave you to think on that my dear, and when I come back, perhaps we can start again."

And then he's gone and the door's locked as she slams against it, and Shalulia is screaming incoherently, her fingernails clawing against the wood helplessly.

"ROOOOOOLF! ROOOOOOLF COME BAAAAACK! ROOOOOOOLF!"

-x-X-x-

When the door opens again days later, a much-changed woman slowly falls from her wood bench onto the floor. The slave crawls to her Master, prostrating herself at his feet and kissing at his toes, until he pulls away from her.

"You're filthy. Tell me, are you ready to accept your rightful place?"

Shuddering, what had once been Shalulia nods her head, never once looking up into Rolf's eyes.

"Yes… Master."

Her mind broken by the revelations forced upon her and her new life, the former Celestial Dragon gives in entirely. When a hand grabs hold of her short hair and drags her face up, only for a cock to slap against her cheek, the woman gasps. It's in that moment that her Master stuffs his dick in her mouth. She doesn't try to bite it though, nor does she try to pull away. Instead, the slave dutifully sucks at his cock, submitting entirely as he guides her head back and forth along his shaft.

Her eyes are vacant, glazed over, and there's nothing of the proud female World Noble that she once was. It's all gone. It's all over. She is nothing without her chip, nothing without proof of her status. The collar around her neck is a heavy reminder that her life now belongs to the man who's dick she is currently sucking. The scratching of the burlap against her breasts and her slit is a painful reminder that her comfort comes only at HIS pleasure.

She must make him happy, and so she does her best to please him with her inexperienced mouth and tongue. There's never been a cock between her lips before, never been a phallus in her mouth, or a dick pushing down her throat. She gags and she chokes, but in the end she takes it. Because that's what a slave does.

No longer a Saint, no longer a Celestial Dragon, no longer a World Noble… Shalulia is nothing more than a slave, while her father and brother rot in a single mass grave along with every other dead World Noble, that Rolf had had made for the massacre he'd committed. Gagging on her Master's dick, tears fall involuntarily from Shalulia's eyes as slobber coats her chin and drips down onto her burlap sack.

This is her life now. Now and forever.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This was a little like pulling teeth. But here we go, a sort of introduction chapter.**

 **-x-X-x-**

 **Thirty-Eight Years Before Canon**

It took me a while to figure out what was going on. To be fair, reincarnation with all one's memories intact isn't necessarily the first thing most would jump to. At least, I like to think they wouldn't. I certainly didn't. No, all I remembered was going to sleep one night. And then, darkness and pressure for what felt like an eternity.

I thought it was all a nightmare at first, but the pain was far, far too real as I screamed inside of a crib, bawling my lungs out. Still, how could I possibly have become a baby? That didn't make sense, did it? It didn't, that was for sure. But regardless of how much sense it made, it was my new reality. I'd been reborn as a child, into a new family with all of my memories intact.

What for? How the fuck was I supposed to know? No, there was no magical conversation in some place with an Omnipotent version of me like I'd written time and time again in fanfic after fanfic. One moment I was laying my head down on my pillow in my apartment, the next I was being born, and god that was not an experience I wanted to be cognizant for, no matter how much of a fetish it was for some people.

I had no doubt that it was an Omnipotent version of me who'd done it regardless. Had to be some sort of insane fucker with way too much power that'd plucked me from my life and deposited me in this world. In the early days of my new life, I could only hope that I hadn't been stuck in a bad situation. But hey, there was no cupboard under the stairs, no mob crying for my head.

That was certainly a plus. And as time went on, I realized just how privileged I was, whoever I was now. I was fed and changed near constantly, kept in exceptional health and watched over by doctors. My parents, and it'd taken a while to properly pinpoint them, were not always present, but when they were they seemed to like me well enough, and they were dressed in rich clothing.

Just as rich as my blankets and my crib, which I'd quickly realized was covered in gold, just like the rest of the room that I spent my days in. Yeah, it looked like I'd been born into royalty, or at the very least nobility. That was nice. I could only hope that it wasn't all building towards some kind of revolution happening in my upcoming childhood, where I'd have to flee and become a street urchin or something inane like that.

Of course, first I had to GET to that childhood. And let me tell you something, growing up again is not nearly as fun or as cool as someone might think, especially the first year of a new life. Luckily, I slept an awful lot, or I think my inability to move or speak or do ANYTHING for myself would have driven me insane. But no, instead I managed to conk out every single time I drank milk from a teat. Not my mother's of course, she had servants for that apparently, but at least the knockers I got to drink from were nice and big and easy to hold onto.

Regardless, time passed, as it was wont to do. As I mentioned before, it took me a while to figure out what was going on. But eventually, I did. The titles, the phrases, the EVERYTHING… it finally all came together.

I and my parents were Celestial Dragons, or World Nobles. I was little Saint Rolf to anyone who wasn't a member of our family or one of the other nineteen families of the Holy Land of Mariejois. My parents, Saint Frederick and Saint Tralia were not nice people. But then, none of the World Nobles were, except for the Donquixote family, if I remembered correctly. They kept slaves, they collected tribute from the world, and all and all, they stood above everyone else, right alongside the rest of the World Nobles.

… I was in One Piece. More than that, I had been reborn into One Piece as a Celestial Dragon. To say I was happy about this would be an… understatement. The day I finally figured out everything, I went from sullen, frowny-faced infant to happy, gushing baby boy. I giggled and clapped, mostly because I couldn't help myself. I was me, my soul or something inhabiting this infant's body, but my brain was still a baby's and it responded to my joy with gurgles and smiles.

This… I could work with this.

 **-x-X-x-**

 **Thirty-Two Years Before Canon**

I made my first real move at age six. Up until that point, I'd simply enjoyed a life of decadence, though I did try my best to stay active. Luckily, there was no internet, no electronics, no games for me to enjoy in this new world. Instead, my fun was regulated to whatever I could come up with. More often than not, that meant forcing the slaves my parents gifted me on the regular to play whatever childhood game I could come up with.

The slaves, mostly children themselves, though a few were adults, went along with whatever I said, whenever I said it. Even the children knew what the brands on their backs and the collars around their necks meant, or so it seemed. And if they didn't… well, they were punished, harshly, usually by their fellow slaves as it turned out. Nobody wanted to get blamed for a sole member of the group's idiocy as far as I could tell.

I tried to be nice. I tried not to abuse my power over them, quite aware of the disparity between us. Even if I was just as human as all of them, at the same time, I really… wasn't. They weren't my peers, and we all knew it. Still, I didn't necessarily go out of my way to abuse the slaves under my direct control. They existed solely for my amusement and enjoyment… I figured that was humiliation enough, at least for now.

But now, there was something of value that I wanted, and only my father could get it for me. I 'stumbled' upon him in his study as he spoke to a gold-plated transponder snail. I didn't dare question how they'd plated one of the living creatures in gold, but I was very interested in the conversation I was overhearing, as the disgraced and self-exiled Donquixote Homing pleaded with my father to save his wife and children.

Frederick would say no of course, as all of the World Nobles had in canon. Instead, before he can shut down Homing, I walk up to him and tug on his extravagant robes. The World Noble blinks as he looks down at me.

"Rolf? What are you doing in here?"

I glance at the transponder snail and then gesture secretively for my father to bend down so I can whisper in his ear. He furrows his brow, but ultimately does so, and once he's close enough, I cup my hand to muffle my words, and then I explain to him exactly what I want. When I finally finish, I pull back and look at him curiously, watching how my father will react to my desires.

Should I be surprised that he has a wide, wicked smile on his face as he looks down at me with a disturbing amount of pride in his gaze? I'm not, because at the end of the day, Homing was the outlier and my parents were just as vile and inhuman as any of the other World Nobles.

"Frederick? Old friend, are you still there?"

Turning back to the transponder snail, my father can't even keep the glee from his voice as he speaks to Homing.

"Not to worry, not to worry… I'm still here 'old friend'. Look, I cannot help you or your boys. You made your choice… but perhaps, as one last favor, I can help your wife. I'll send Cipher Pol to bring her back to the Holy Land, and our best doctors will save her life. How does that sound, hm?"

I stare at the transponder snail with baited breath, awaiting Homing's reply right alongside my expectant father. In the end, the self-exiled World Noble does not disappoint. He's as gullible and naïve as ever.

"Truly? Thank you Frederick, thank you! I will begin preparing her for the journey right away! You… this means so much. Thank you old friend, from the bottom of my heart."

Frederick chuckles and then ends the call. I wonder for a brief moment why he didn't pass on any parting words before doing so, but that question is answered when his chuckle almost immediately morphs into a full blown bout of diabolical laughter. My father cackles like a madman as tears fall from his eyes and he beats the top of his leg with his palm.

I watch on, slightly amused myself, until finally the Celestial Dragon and the head of my family calms down enough to look at me with a big shit-eating grin spread across my face. He reaches out and grabs me by my small shoulder, and then he pulls me in close and hugs me tight.

"My son! My boy! You're brilliant, just utterly brilliant!"

I was, wasn't I? Though I didn't really see this moment as utterly brilliant. Eventually Frederick holds me at arm's length and just chuckles in amazement.

"I don't know how I didn't see it. That woman… she was always a looker. I suppose her former status as a World Noble blinded me… hell, it blinded all of us, or one of the others would have had your brilliant idea before you did, haha! Honestly, offering to take her in and then making her a slave! You've got your father's mind my boy, you've got your father's mind!"

I grin at him and shrug my shoulders as best I can. It's a little hard to smile, because I think I'm going to have to kill this man at some point down the line, but I do my best to mirror his facial expression all the same.

"Thank you, father. I was hoping you would like it."

"Like it, my boy I LOVE it! Hehehe, and your mother will like it as well. Oh yes, that woman, in our bed, forced to cater to our whims… ah, this is going to be glorious."

And there's the other shoe dropping. I don't bother to keep my frown off my face, even as I adopt a petulant tone. It's what's expected of me after all.

"But father! I wanted her for my collection…"

That gets a scoff from the older man as he finally sets my small six-year old body back down on the floor.

"Not to worry Rolf, you're not quite of the age yet where you'd make use of our new slave in the way your mother and I will. You can have her during the day for your little games, doesn't that sound nice?"

… No, it did not. But there was a limit to the petulance I could exude. In the end, I just smile and nod and the Celestial Dragon goes back to what he was doing before Homing called and I intruded. I leave him to it, even as inside I seethe. My parents are going to use up the toy that MY brilliance got for them, long before I get a crack at her.

I know EXACTLY how rough my father and mother are with their slaves. They go through them like hot cakes! Homing's wife, whatever the hell her name is, has a lifespan of a few years at best before she ends up dead or worse. How very… frustrating. I think it was time to move up my plans.

 **-x-X-x-**

 **Thirty-One Years Before Canon**

She'd had a name once. Quite recently in fact. Only a year ago, she'd been wife to a man, mother to two boys. But that just wasn't her lot in life anymore. She was a slave now, and as her Master and Mistress very forcibly reminded her time and time again in those first few months, she would never be more than that, ever again.

The pain was always fresh in her mind, but then, they made sure to reteach her their lessons each and every night. Her body was imperfect, scarred for their amusement. And in the end, that was all she existed for. Their amusement. Admittedly, it'd taken her longer than it should have to learn that. Some of the pain, some of her scars, they needn't have been if she'd simply been less naïve, less foolish when she'd first arrived.

Unfortunately, her life before her Master and Mistress so 'kindly' took her in had not been conducive to teaching her the harsh realities of the world she lived in. She'd not understood where she belonged in the present, due to misconceptions stemming from where she'd belonged in the past. Master and Mistress had dissuaded her of such asinine beliefs though. They'd done so quite thoroughly.

Now here she stood, nothing more than a slave dressed up in a maid's uniform, collar thick around her neck. Before her stands the young master. His authority is beneath that of her Master and Mistress, but only just. He is not to be questioned, nor is he to be disobeyed unless it directly contradicts an order from her Master and Mistress. And while he is not quite as terrible and cruel as the two who hold dominion over her and her life, he is still not to be trifled with. She has learned this fact quite well over the last dozen months, in the year that she has served him alongside the Master and Mistress.

"My mother and father are dead."

The words split the silence and she is quick to focus on what he's saying, ready to obey any and all orders as soon as they're given. Except this is not an order or a command or even a demand. It's a statement, one that is surely not factual. She keeps her head bowed, not at all wanting to draw his ire, but she can't possibly stop the disbelief from radiating from her silent form.

"It took some doing. I'm sorry you had to suffer for so long first. In the end, I didn't think you'd last much longer, so I even sped things up a bit. But as it turns out, I needn't have worried. Still, they're dead now, which puts me in charge of this and you and everything. We World Nobles don't have any sort of guardianship system or stewardship system it seems. No other family has offered to 'take me in', though I confess I was ready to rebuff them if they tried."

The young master pauses and then smiles sardonically.

"Heh, I suppose we'll just have to soldier on. Still, I'm glad you're still alive. It would have been such a waste, had my parents used you up as they were trying to do."

She can't hold it back anymore. Even though she knows it invites punishment, the words slip out of her mouth all the same, though her eyes remain on the ground.

"Surely… surely the young master jests."

She can almost feel his piercing gaze upon her. Preparing herself for pain, she hunches inward just a tad.

"You don't believe me. Understandable I suppose. After all, what can kill a Celestial Dragon? What can kill a God? That should be obvious, don't you think? Only divinity can affect divinity, after all."

She knows that they aren't really gods. It's the only thing she's kept to herself, the only part of her past life that she's allowed to remain as they excised everything else from her that had made her what she once was. Still, it doesn't make sense. The young master is claiming to have killed his parents… for her? But why? It's not until he responds that she realizes she's let the word slip through her lips.

"Why? Because you were mine, of course. Supposed to be, anyways. My father nearly ruined everything I had planned for you. I wouldn't stand for it, so he had to go. Mother too, as she proved to be an active participant in the slow ruining of all your potential. No, I wasn't going to watch you wither away and die, not after I stuck my neck out for you. You're mine, understood?"

She stays silent, unsure what to say. She still doesn't believe him, but to call the young master a liar is just as terrible a punishment as to do so with the Master and Mistress. So she remains where she is, fidgeting slightly and keeping her eyes on the ground as she clasps her hands in front of her to keep them from moving about.

"… You still don't believe me. Unfortunate, but I suppose you'll need proof. Come along."

The young master had ordered her to meet him in the Master's study. She'd thought it strange, but she hadn't dared to disobey. She doesn't dare to disobey now either, even as he walks her over to the nearby doors and into the Master and Mistress' bedroom. It is a place of nightmares for her, the place where she spends every night, chained or bound or whipped bloody and left lying in a weak, exhausted heap on the floor. She'd never slept on the bed that the young master guides her to though, as it was always occupied by her Master's large form, her Mistress curled into his side.

It is occupied now by the two of them as well. Except, they're asleep. She finds that confusing, only to startle when the young master smacks his hand across the face of her Master, and then the face of her Mistress as well for good measure. Neither wakes. Neither even so much as flinches. He slaps them again and she flinches again in response, but still neither wakes.

They could… they could be in a deep, deep sleep. But as she finally looks at them, truly looks at them, she sees no rise and fall of the chest from either. Breath does not part from their closed lips and their nostrils do not shift. This is… they are dead. They're not breathing. Her Master and Mistress… they're gone.

Before she even knows what she's doing, she's upon them, grabbing them, crying out in horror and shock.

"N-No! No Master, wake up! Mistress, don't leave me! Please, please come back! No, no, no, no! What will I do now?! I must know what to do now!"

"You will obey, as you've always done. You will obey me."

The young master's voice cuts through her thoughts. She tenses, finally realizing her lapse in judgement. She's crying over corpses, over dead bodies… and the one she must obey stands behind her. Slipping away from the deceased lying in the bed, she turns back to the young master and slides to her knees, head bowed. This brings her just under his own head, as he is still quite small, a child in any normal definition of the word.

But the young master is not normal. No, he is a Celestial Dragon… more than that, he has killed his parents… for her. She still does not understand, even as she accepts the truth of his words. Her Master and Mistress are dead. There is only one voice left for her to listen to, one boy left for her to obey. The thought of strangling him here and now while he is still small and weak and young doesn't even cross her mind. To be fair, she wouldn't have even been able to consider hurting a child, back before she became what she is now.

And now, the resistance, the urge to strike back, has long been ripped out of her like so many other unwanted traits. So she kneels and she waits for her young master to give her an order.

"… Expose your chest to me. I want to see your tits."

The order stuns her for a second, reminding her of all the humiliation and degradation that the now dead Master and Mistress had put her through. And yet, even as she finds herself lost in horrifying memories, her hands move to obey, all on their own. She undoes the buttons on her white blouse, pulling apart what she needs to of her maid uniform. It is in the end, just a costume. She is not a maid, nor is she a servant. She is a slave, a piece of property. She is the young master's property now, and his alone.

Her breasts fall free of their confines a moment later, bouncing and jiggling for a moment before settling into place. They are sizable and perky, not quite as much drag as a mother of two might expect. They are also one of the few parts of her body that are not laced with scars. The Master and Mistress loved… had loved actually, to play with her chest. They'd enjoyed hurting it, but never permanently.

Now, the young master steps forward and reaches out, his eyes filled with curiosity. In response, she can't help but straighten and then arch her back slightly, jutting her chest out into his grasping hands. He takes hold of her and her breath hitches slightly as he squeezes experimentally. She can't help but react. Just as with everything else, her body has been retrained as well.

The young master's brow furrows as he continues to molest her, and his eyes glance down at himself a couple times before finally he sighs and pulls back, shaking his head.

"I'm not old enough yet. Cover yourself."

She does so, putting her uniform back together, even as the young master steps back, blowing an exasperated raspberry as he glances to the bodies on the bed behind her.

"Right, well there will be people here soon to prepare the bodies for burial according to my father's specifications. Luckily, I rewrote said specifications, as he wanted all of his current slaves to burn with him when he died. Another waste, another hassle. All cleared up though… you can go clean or something now. You won't be spending your nights in here anymore obviously. Instead, I want you to report to my bedchamber each night, do you understand?"

It is a question that demands an answer. She bows at the waist and speaks.

"As you say, young master."

"… No, just call me Master from now on. My father's dead, is he not? There's no more need for the distinction."

"… As you say, Master."

"That's better."

And then she's dismissed and allowed to go about her day. She cleans, as that's the only order she's been given, and when the night comes along, she presents herself at her Master's door. He welcomes her inside, and she prepares herself for the worst as he has her strip out of her sweaty maid uniform. Instead of pain or torture or bondage however, things take a very different turn.

She's not sure what to think as they climb into his personal tub together, filled as it is with bubbly, warm water. She obeys though, when he orders her to wash him. She also obeys when he orders her to wash herself, even if she is completely astounded by the command. She is very rarely allowed to properly bathe, and she's quick to do so now, not wanting to seem like she's taking advantage of his generosity.

In the end, they rise from the tub together, and they dry off together. Then, she finds herself placed in a silken nightie made of finer material than anything she's been allowed to wear for a year. Her Master gets into his own pajamas, and then beckons her to join him on the bed. This is where she falters, eyes wide and mouth agape as she just stares at him and where he's patting the bed beside him with his hand.

It's a breach in decorum, and she comes out of it a moment later afraid he's going to finally decide to harm her for her incompetence, but he just smiles and gestures for her to sit down. She does so, uncomfortable on the extremely comfortable mattress that he and those like him get to sleep on. She shouldn't… she shouldn't be here.

But it is what the Master wants, and as he pushes her down onto the pillows, only to then lay on her, cuddling into her chest and wrapping his small arms around her body, she can only accept what he wants from her. Still, being used as a pillow is definitely not the worst circumstances she could find herself in.

As she lays there, the beautiful blonde woman who had once been the wife of Donquixote Homing and the mother to Donquixote Doflamingo and Donquixote Rosinante allows a smile to spread across her face for the first time in so many months. Her eyes begin to drift shut, and she sleeps better than she has in all that time, in the bed of her new Master.

Her last thought before she drifts off is a shameful one, a silly fantasy. She thinks… she thinks she might be in love with the boy nuzzling her bosom. In her broken mind, the slave's affection for her Master wells up in her breast, exploding into true devotion and adoration.


End file.
